


The Light of Our Stars

by Empress37



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Action, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Battle Wives, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Humour, Mecha Au, Past Torture, Political Marriage, Slow Burn, Trauma, Uncorrupted Sylvanas, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence, Women in Uniforms, they will get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-10-31 10:52:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17848088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress37/pseuds/Empress37
Summary: When the once outcast Queen Azshara returns with a seemingly unstoppable army, both the Horde and Alliance are forced to put aside old wars and hatreds to survive this new threat.To cement this alliance and symbolize this new unity, a wedding has been arranged. As the leader of the most powerful navy in the Alliance, Admiral Jaina Proudmoore was a perfect candidate.Sylvanas Windrunner is a traitor to the Alliance and the woman who butchered an entire city. She is also the most renowned and feared mech pilot in both factions, leading Horde mech pilots to resounding victories in every battle. In short, she is the best candidate to marry Jaina Proudmoore.Forced to work together, both women must not only lead a newly formed joint fleet, and repel a terrifying enemy, but they must also learn to navigate their personal lives. Tempers and ego's will clash. Past trauma's and secrets will be unearthed. Through it all, can Sylvanas and Jaina learn to not only work together, but love each other?





	1. That Special Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slackergami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slackergami/gifts).



> So, I am at it again. Here is another AU for our wonderful queens.
> 
> Once again, this is all Tres's fault! Check out her wonderful art that forced me to write this. 
> 
> http://slackergami.tumblr.com/post/182821283645/a-mecha-au-where-rg-sylvanas-windrunner
> 
> Tres, this is for you! And all you wonderful people who just can get enough of these amazing gays. 
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, it was edited by me.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the ride! :)

The line of mechs shone brilliantly in the high noon sun. They’d been polished and cleaned for hours, every panel that had even a hint of a scratch replaced. What an utter waste. All the time wasted on pointless maintenance could have been used to build a dozen new ones. But, she supposed the masses did enjoy shiny things. Such simple creatures.

Even though they had been primped to the point of looking gaudy, Sylvanas wanted nothing more than to climb inside one and fly away. Alas, the safety mechanisms would prevent any but the registered pilot from using the armoured suits. She was regretting not allowing them to use her mech for this…show. But that would have meant subjecting it to the hands of fools. There was only one other person she would ever allow to touch her precious mech, and Sylvanas wouldn’t waste her time for something so frivolous.

The murmur of the crowd behind her was growing to a dull roar, she felt her ears twitch with the irritation she felt at the noise, and the situation itself.

“Captain, it’s time.”

Sylvanas allowed herself to sigh. Yes, she supposed it was. Turning, she locked eyes with Anya, her lance mate. Like Sylvanas herself, the elf wore her dress uniform, the obsidian black fabric seeming to absorb the light, trimmings in blood red provided a touch of sinister colouring. Although Sylvanas’s uniform featured silver epaulette’s adorning her shoulders, signifying her rank. While Sylvanas had been spared having to adorn her chest with the medals she kept in a dusty box, some fool had decided to compensate with extra embroidery on her jacket.

Clasping her hands tightly behind her back, Sylvanas marched towards her cruel fate. As she neared the doors, she wondered if Anya would stop her should she try to bolt. Of course she wouldn’t. But Sylvanas’s course did not change. She would do her duty, no matter how detestable she found it. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d sullied herself for duty, sacrificed herself for the greater good. Still, she made a mental note not to save Vol’jin’s life next time. Ungrateful bastard.

Sylvanas was sure it was intended for her to wait out in the hall for some kind of que, a signal so they could make a spectacle of her entrance.

“If she already there?” She asked, not turning to look at her lance-mate.

“She is.”

Well, at least she wouldn’t have to wait longer. Without any more hesitation, Sylvanas pushed the ostentatiously large double doors aside, startling the two guards inside who were clearly meant to open them. A thousand heads turned on her as she strode down the isle with long steps. The band, obviously surprised, scrambled to assemble and play some sort of pointless melody. Sylvanas made sure she’d hit the end of the aisle before they were ready.

She didn’t deign to look at the flustered officiate as he tried to catch up. Her gaze swung to the woman beside her. Her soon to be wife. Sylvanas supposed, at least she had lucked out in being forced into this with someone who wasn’t unpleasant upon the eyes.

Admiral Jaina Proudmoore cut a rather striking figure in her naval uniform. Deep blue with a few touches of sea green created a pleasant blend, while the gold epaulettes added just a touch of ostentatious-ness. The cut of the uniform was clearly custom, highlighting the admiral’s figure superbly. Shimmering gold hair was pulled into a thick braid that draped delicately over her shoulder. Piercing, blue eyes, like burning starlight.

Her expression was stern, what looked like full, soft lips, were pulled into a thin line, as though the woman was doing her utmost to keep from outright grimacing. Well, at least her ‘wife’ felt the same about this moronic plan.

The officiate opened his mouth, no doubt to begin a rehearsed speech full of pointless platitudes and false enthusiasms. Sylvanas couldn’t be bothered to listen, her ears already twitched in annoyance.

This whole affair was utterly pointless. If they truly required this marriage to take place, fine. She had consented. But this entire, elaborate ceremony was completely unnecessary. They were at war. Yet, it seemed there was still time for all major powers to gather and witness two women, who had only met once prior, get married.

Sylvanas was just thankful she hadn’t been needed for any of the planning, or she may have committed treason and murdered the Warchief herself.

Gods, was he still droning on? Her eyes flicked back to the officiate, tuning back into her surroundings. Yes, he was still spewing his drivel. A glance over at the admiral showed a similar look of consternation that Sylvanas was sure her own face mirrored.

“Just get on with it.” She growled, fixing the officiate with a murderous glare. The man visibly gulped, which gave her a modicum of pleasure.

“Y-yes. The couple may now exchange their vows.”

“What?” Both women echoed eachother, the officiate now receiving two steely glares.

“Umm…th-the vows. Your vows to eachother?”

“Oh for fu-” Sylvanas growled, turning her attention to the admiral. “I promise not to murder you in your sleep.” She would kill the woman face to face if it came to that.

Proudmoore returned the glare. “And I won’t vent you into space.”

Sylvanas felt a smirk tug at her lips. Well, at least this wouldn’t be dull. She’d heard enough about the admiral to know the human had some fire in her. But it was nice to see it so quick to jump to the surface. At least her ‘wife’ wouldn’t be easily cowed.

“Umm, that’s not…”

“Vows done, next.” Sylvanas glared at the man, not giving a shit how uncomfortable he felt or the rise in tension from the crowd behind her.

“Um, yes. Do you have the rings?”

Sylvanas reached into her pocket, fingers closing around the cool metal. Proudmoore held out her hand, in an obviously begrudging manner. Sylvanas slid the ring on the human’s surprisingly chilly hand. The ring itself was a deep obsidian with veins of purple weaving through it. The metal was titanium, the same material used in mech creation. It was the only thing Sylvanas had involved herself in, she’d thought it would be amusing having the ring match her mech. A mech that had made Alliance pilots tremble in fear for years.

Proudmoore glanced at the ring for a mere heartbeat before pulling her hand away. The admiral produced her own ring, a dull silver thing with what looked like elven designs etched in black. Well, it wasn’t terrible.

The metal was almost frigid against Sylvanas’s finger. The weight on her hand was foreign, logically, she knew the ring couldn’t weigh more than a few grams, yet for a brief second it felt like the heaviest thing in the world. It was her knew life. Her new duty. None of which she wanted. It felt wrong.

Sylvanas took her hand back, perhaps a tad too aggressively, if Proudmoore’s momentarily intensified glare was anything to go by, but the elf couldn’t bring herself to care. She clasped both hands tightly behind her back, squeezing her newly accessorized hand until it hurt. The pain brought her some level of comfort. At least it was something she’d chosen.

The officiate cleared his throat, something he seemed to immediately regret as both women returned their attention to him.

“Do you, Sylvanas Windrunner, take Jaina Proudmoore to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have-”

“Yes,” the man flinched at her icy tone. She’d barely resisted the urge to bar her fangs at him.

“And do you, Jaina Proudmoore-”

“Yes.” Proudmoore’s tone was clipped, the faintest trace of annoyance and anger just creeping inside. That fire threatening to show itself again.

“Well, then, by the powers vested in me. I now pronounce you wife and wife.” He looked between the two of them, a flicker of hesitation and fear in his eyes. “You may kiss your bride.”

It wasn’t clear which of them he was talking too, his eyes continually darting between them. Sylvanas nearly chuckled at the mere idea of kissing Proudmoore. While it may be enjoyable just to see the admiral’s reaction, Sylvanas had no intention of putting on more of a show that was strictly necessary. She was certain her display up until now would already earn her an earful later, she saw no reason to try and earn favour now.

“I don’t think so,” Sylvanas kept her voice chilly, enjoying the reaction it caused. She turned to her ‘wife’, nodding towards the exit, “shall we?”

Proudmoore nodded, the two of them spinning about on a heel and marching down the aisle. While it was tempting to allow her long strides to give a lead on the human, Sylvanas kept her steps shorter, allowing Proudmoore to keep pace.

They made it perhaps halfway down before the human let out a barely audible sigh and slipped her arm through Sylvanas’s. Their bodies didn’t touch beyond the minor contact in their arms, but the elf still stiffened even more at the action.

“We should put in at least _some_ effort.” Proudmoore whispered, a note of weariness entering into her tone.

Sylvanas wanted to yank her arm back, but she was willing to concede the point. They still had to get through at least a few hours of the reception, a thought that made her shudder. It was going to be a very long day.

 

* * *

Jaina’s eyes flitted about the room, taking stock of everyone present. Of course, all the most important figures in both the Horde and Alliance were in attendance. While there was a large, visible divide between the two factions, with most sticking within their own groups. A few brave, forward thinking souls hand mingled together and there had yet to be any blood.

 That was the entire point of this fiasco anyways. Encouraging unity between two long time enemies. And what better way to do that than forcing two of their most powerful figures into a marriage against their will. Sure, both women had _technically_ been asked for their consent, well, Jaina had, she assumed Sylvanas was afforded the same courtesy. The choice had been an illusion. They could have refused, but that would have meant possible reprimands and perhaps even war at a time when it could be ill afforded.

Unity right now was paramount. With both factions under attack by an enemy of terrifying power, they could only survive through cooperation. One would think survival would be enough motivation, but evidently a symbol was needed. What greater symbol than two former enemies pledging their lives to one another?

Jaina would admit, perhaps only to herself, it was a decent plan. It would be a better plan if she hadn’t been the one selected. Yet, that too made some amount of sense. After all, there needed to be equality amongst the spouses, no favour could be shown to a single side.

Thus, she found herself in her current predicament. The leader of the largest, most advanced fleet in the Alliance, married to the most feared mech pilot of all time. Both legends in their own rights, both wielding large power-bases. Power-bases that were soon to be combined.

Jaina was startled from her introspection as a cup with practically thrust into her hand. Her eyes snapped into focus, zeroing in on the form of her brother standing in front of her with a grin.

“You look like you could use it,” Tandred gave her a gentle, somewhat sympathetic smile.

Jaina returned it, although it likely came off as much more of a grimace. Wrapping her fingers around the cup, barely feeling the chill, she drank deeply from the wine. It was a good vintage, not that she cared at the moment.

“Thank you,” she muttered, forcing herself to not drain the glass in a single go. That wouldn’t look good.

“I know you aren’t happy about it, but you did a good thing today. I’m proud of you.”

Jaina sighed, her resolve fleeing her immediately. She drained the last of the glass without a care. “I know.” It was the only reason she’d done it in the first place.

“If anyone can make this work, it’s you.” He gave her an encouraging smile. She appreciated the sentiment, but it did little to lift her sprits.

“Unfortunately,” she spoke slowly, pausing to return her empty glass to a passing waiter, snatching up a fresh one before she could second guess herself. “It will take cooperation for that.” Her gaze shifted across the room, settling pointedly on her…wife.

Sylvanas Windrunner stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by those Jaina assumed to be fellow mech pilots. The elf’s face seemed permanently fixed in an icy state. Little emotion crossed her features, cold eyes of steel taking in the room at regular intervals, as though she were expecting an attack at any moment.

The elf’s shoulders hadn’t once relaxed from the rigid posture, one that made even the dozens of military personnel seem like they were hunchbacks. The black and red horde uniform combined with the elf’s decision to stand in the darkest corner, gave her a sinister appearance. Pale gold hair that flowed gracefully past her shoulders provided the only touch of softness to the elf.

Again, on paper, the choice of Jaina’s spouse made sense. Sylvanas was the highest ranked mech pilot in the Horde, her kill score was unmatched by any in either faction. She led the Horde mechs in every battle, reaping terrible victories against the Alliance in every clash. Sylvanas was an influential and powerful figure, Jaina’s equal.

She was also a traitor and a murderer. While many had lived in fear of the ‘Banshee’ for years, the elf had earned a new moniker in the past months. The Butcher of Teldrassil. An uncountable number of innocents had died under the Banshee’s orders. She was the reason not a single night elf was present today. The very idea of this marriage had almost caused them to withdraw from the Alliance completely. Jaina was now married to the woman responsible for that.

“She’ll put in the work.” Tandred’s voice once more summoned her focus away from spiraling internal thoughts.

“Will she?” Jaina fixed him with a dubious look. The elf hadn’t even spoken to her all night. They’d sat together at dinner but separated the moment it was deemed acceptable.

“For this new treaty, yes. She knows how badly we need to work together.” Tandred took a sip of his own drink, giving Jaina a wry grin. “Your marriage on the other hand…good luck.”

“Ass,” she rolled her eyes, giving her brother a gentle shove, but she smiled all the same. “How do you know she’ll make an effort for the treaty?”

“Why would she have agreed otherwise?” Tandred shrugged, eyes moving to the elf in question. “From everything I’ve heard she’s as stubborn as you.”

“Oh, and you’re an expert on Horde gossip now?”

“I made some inquires. Also been moving through the room tonight.”

Jaina looked to her brother, giving him a questioning look.

“What?” Tandred met her gaze, giving another easy shrug. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t look into your wife?”

Wife. Tides, that still sounded so foreign to her. She doubted it would ever truly sound _right_. But perhaps with time it wouldn’t cause her heart to sink. Perhaps being married to a murderer wouldn’t be so terrible. That thought had Jaina draining the rest of her wine.

“Take it easy,” Tandred gave that playful grin of his, the one he’d used since they were kids to cheer her up. “Or your wife will have to carry you out of here.”

As though she had been waiting for just such a que, Sylvanas broke from where she’d been entrenched half the night. The elf’s long strides carried her across the room in short order. It couldn’t have taken longer than a minute for her to reach Jaina, yet by then, it still felt as though all eyes were on them.

“I’m going to retire for the evening.” Sylvanas’s voice matched her expression perfectly, it was a surprise literal frost didn’t come from her mouth instead of the clipped words.

Jaina withheld her sigh. She supposed it couldn’t be avoided any longer. “I’ll join you.” As much as she wanted to stay, the two of them leaving separately would cause even more of a scandal than the ceremony had.

Setting her glass on another passing tray, she steeled herself to slip an arm through the elf’s. The one thing she would say, is that Sylvanas Windrunner certainly ran hot. It was perhaps the most pleasant thing about her. The only pleasant thing about her.

“Good night Tandred,” She gave her brother the best smile she could muster.

“Good night Jaina,” his responding one was reassuring, managing to bolster her spirits ever so slightly. “Good night Captain Windrunner.” Surprisingly, the elf was offered a warm, friendly smile.

Of course, Sylvanas only gave a terse nod in response before she set off towards the exit. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so straightforward. They were obligated to bid farewell to all the major figures in the room. Neither of them bothered with false smiles or feigned happiness, few expected it anyways.

By the time they were set to leave the room, it was impossible to ignore the whispers. The men in the room all but leering at the two of them. Although, Jaina noted it was almost exclusively Alliance soldiers who were guilty. That irked her. Did they truly think Jaina was going to allow the woman on her arm to defile her? A simple kiss was going to require _extensive_ negotiation before she would allow it.

Ignoring the increasingly obvious whispering, the two women marched from the banquet hall, the soft thud of their boots perfectly synchronized.

The wedding had taken place in Lorderon. Since the restoration of the once magnificent city had been a joint effort, it was the most fitting location. They’d been given quarters for the night that were thankfully, only a short walk from the banquet hall. Tomorrow they would board Jaina’s flagship and set off to meet with the newly assembled joint fleet.

The moment they were free from any prying eyes, Jaina removed her arm, creating several inches of space between them. Sylvanas didn’t even glance in her direction, her cold gaze fixed directly ahead, hands returning to their clasped position behind her back.

Sylvanas pushed the doors to their assigned quarters open, striding in without waiting for Jaina. The room was nice, as to be expected, leaning towards extravagant. A large four-poster bed, rich, hand carved wooden furniture dotted the room. A door that led to what was likely a large bathroom adorned the wall opposite the bed.

“Do you want to shower or anything?” Jaina asked out of politeness. She would love nothing more than a scalding shower right now.

“No.” Sylvanas moved towards the bed, apparently done with the conversation.

Jaina sighed, shaking her head softly while heading towards the bathroom. The shower was just shy of being unbearably hot. It left Jaina’s skin bright red and pleasantly warm even after she stepped out. Drying off, she dressed down in the clothes she’d grabbed from the dresser. They weren’t her own, but the soft cotton pants and shirt were pleasant against her skin.

Stepping out into the main room in a cloud of steam, Jaina’s eyes went to the bed, furrowing in confusion. It was empty. Looking about the room, she saw lump hidden under a blanket occupying the sofa.

Was Sylvanas really not going to sleep in the bed? While Jaina wasn’t particularly eager to share a bed with the woman, they would have little choice once they boarded her ship. Soldiers were the worst gossips. If they didn’t share a room news would spread like wild fire. And Jaina didn’t have a sofa in her quarters. Perhaps she could arrange to have one discreetly brought in. But that was a problem for another day.

She considered offering to share the bed, but the thought lasted only a moment. Sylvanas was a grown woman, she could make whatever choices she wanted. If she refused to share a bed, that was her decision, and her problem. Jaina had no plans on bringing it up unless it somehow became an issue.

She flicked the lights off, navigating the dark room via moonlight to the bed. Shifting the covers back with a soft ruffle, Jaina slid onto the silk sheets, shivering at their coolness. Adjusting the pillows to her liking, she settled in, hoping sleep would claim her.

There was no muttered ‘good night’ from either of them. Lifting a hand, she examined the new piece of jewelry in the glow of the moon. The black metal struck a stark contrast with her pale finger, the dark purple veins barely visible in the low light. Letting out a sigh, Jaina dropped her hand, eyes sliding closed as she murmured softly.

“Congratulations Jaina.”


	2. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the wedding, the new couple begins to settle in their new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is another really short chapter! I needed this one to set everything up for a whole bunch of things to come! 
> 
> Apologies for the poor editing. It was done by me and I am sleep deprived. But I wanted to get it posted tonight so some people could read it after work!
> 
> I hope you all like it! :)

Sylvanas winced as she her sleeve scraped over the raw flesh of her forearm. She gave the cuff a firm tug, ensuring it came down to cover her wrist completely. Luckily it wasn’t too bad of a mark, just fresh. Shrugging on her jacket, she buttoned it with nimble fingers before giving herself a quick glance in the mirror. Not a hair out of place. Good. 

Stepping from the bathroom, she entered back into the room proper, where her wife waited. Proudmoore was already dressed and looked ready to depart, good. She’d woken only a few minutes after Sylvanas herself. They would likely need to work out some sort of bathroom schedule once quartered on the admiral’s flagship. Sylvanas wished she could just have her own quarters, but appearances were important and soldiers gossiped worse than old women. They did need to maintain  _ some _ appearances.

“Ready to go?” Proudmoore asked, smoothing her jacket down. 

Sylvanas answered with a simple nod, moving towards the door. Proudmoore exited after her, this time she didn’t slip her arm through Sylvanas’s, which she was thankful for. The halls were mostly deserted. Those they did pass were fellow service members, who always offered both women a sharp salute and respectful nod. 

Thankfully, the transport Sylvanas had arranged for them was already waiting outside. It was only a short, silent, five-minute ride to the transport terminal where they would catch a military shuttle into orbit and onto the flagship. 

The moment they stepped into the terminal, each was met with a sharp salute from a waiting aide. Sylvanas returned the salute, accepting the offered tablet she knew would be pre-loaded with all the information she needed. Proudmoore was likewise receiving her own device. 

Both women took a seat in the second shuttle, eyes glued to their respective devices. Sylvanas combed through the reports with practised ease. The new joint fleet was assembled and waiting for them on the edge of Kul Tiran space, a two day journey. 

The fleet was substantial, an even split between Alliance and Horde vessels. Sylvanas had already memorized the exact makeup of the entire fleet, but that wasn’t her main concern. Proudmoore would be in command of the ships, while Sylvanas was in charge of the entire force of mech’s. 

They were scheduled to conduct two-weeks of training exercises before shipping to the front. Sylvanas would have preferred two months, at the least, but she would take anything. There would be a lot of kinks to work out. Chain of command would have to be finalized and any trouble makers taken care of. It was a good thing Sylvanas was already used to sleepless nights. 

The shuttle shook ever so faintly as they exited the atmosphere. Sylvanas moved naturally with the shuttles, her eyes never straying from the words. 

Chain of command was going to be the most time consuming to work out. She would have to work it out as they went. To make matters worse, nearly Lance of mechs was newly formed. There had been discussion of allowing existing lance’s to remain intact. After some deliberation, Sylvanas had decided against it. 

Almost every lance contained a mixture of Alliance and Horde pilots. While commands rested with the highest ranking officers, for now, she was aware there was a real chance promotions would need to take place in order to have the most competent leaders. She was all too aware that rank didn’t always mean skill. Luckily, that was less true with mech pilots. Since those less skilled usually didn’t last long. Still, she would have to carefully evaluate all the commanders during the training exercises. 

A few key lances had been left untampered with, Sylvanas’s own included. The simple fact was, they were too effective of a force to justify splitting them up. While it was always a viable tactic to distribute more seasoned troops amongst the ranks, disbanding entire elite units was folly. It was these lances that would likely give the most trouble. 

She knew that the two Horde lance’s could be trusted, they would follow her orders without hesitation. The two Alliance lance’s however, well, they could prove a challenge. One lance was led by Valeera Sanguinar. A rather renowned pilot who Sylvanas had never had the pleasure of facing before. Her lance of assassin class mech’s had performed dozens of black ops missions with astounding success. It had taken a great deal of cajoling to get the High Elf transferred to the fleet. Sylvanas only hoped it would be worth it. 

The second lance, was the only one provided by the Night Elves. While they had contributed several ship, clearly entrusting them under the command of Proudmoore, only a single lance had been willing to submit to Sylvanas’s command. Well, it remained to be seen if they would prove cooperative. Working with the renowned, and perhaps infamous Maiev Shadowsong would prove interesting. 

Sylvanas opened up her messaging application, sending notifications to all the lance commanders of their first scheduled briefing two hours after they would arrive. There was little time to waste and Sylvanas certainly didn’t plan on dallying. She sent separate messages to to the commanders of the four elite lances, notifying them of a separate meeting an hour beforehand. 

When the shuttle gave another gentle shake, indicating they were landing, she clicked off the tablet. Glancing over she saw Proudmoore already rising, she cast a single glance back to Sylvanas, who understood immediately. Appearances. 

The two women stood shoulder to shoulder as they marched from the shuttle with precise steps. Sylvanas ensured her strides were short enough to keep pace with the human. An honour guard of both Horde and Alliance crew stood at rigid attention, snapping off crisp salute’s. Sylvanas noted the ranks were not mingled. Alliance on the left, Horde on the right. That wouldn’t do. 

The formal greetings were thankfully, over quickly. It was only moments before they are marching through the halls of the ship. Sylvanas took in all the details as they walked. Not only did she need to know the exact layout of the ship for practicality, she was also urged by mild curiosity. 

Kul Tiran battleships were rather renowned after all. None more so than Proudmoore’s flagship. It appeared to be a different design from other Kul Tiran battleships Sylvanas had seen in her time. Unfortunately she had no solid facts about the ship, since such information was a rather closely guarded secret, even with this newfound partnership. 

Unsurprisingly the majority of the ship’s crew were human, very likely Kul Tiran stock. She did spot the occasional High Elf or Draenei wearing the same uniform. The most diversity came from the mech pilots, every race, including those belonging to the Horde, could be seen wearing the typical armoured flight suit of a mech pilot. 

There was no outright hostility, but the tension in the air was palpable every time the two groups neared each other. Sylvanas certainly didn’t miss the poorly disguised glares thrown her way from the Alliance crew.  

It seemed their first stop would be their private quarters. Proudmoore led the way inside, not glancing back to ensure Sylvanas was following. The elf took a long look around the quarters. 

A large oak desk sat against the western wall. Easily a dozen data tablets were strewn about its well worn surface. A computer terminal took up the center, currently powered off. On either side of the desk were two large bookshelves stuffed with genuine paper books, a rare sight these days. Many of them looked well worn, indicating they weren’t merely for decoration. 

The northern wall contained a spacious bed, but not obnoxiously so. The thick comforter was a deep Kul Tiran green, a silver anchor proudly embroidered in the center. The eastern wall had a door which likely led to a private bathroom, a richly carved oak dresser and free standing armoire, were the only other furniture in the room.  Three large black and red bags sat in front of the dresser. Her belongings. 

The quarters were minimalist, yet still had a surprising homey feel. The single cursory glance told her that Proudmoore spent a fair amount of time in the room. Two framed photos on the desk, a small collection of assembled ship models were scattered about available surfaces. 

Sylvanas frowned at the lack of a sofa, or any other available sleeping surface apart from the floor or bed. She shrugged internally, stepping further into the room, she was comfortable enough on the floor. 

“You can unpack as you like,” Proudmoore spoke as she walked to the large armoire. “You can move my things around as you need.” She shrugged off her jacket, tossing it haphazardly on the bed. 

The human pulled the wooden door open, revealing a built in metal container which contained and...metal arm? Proudmoore unbuttoned her shirt, shrugging it off completely and tossing it aside. 

Sylvanas’s eye’s honed in on the glint of metal forming a circle where arm met shoulder. Proudmoore’s left hand gripped the ring, squeezing in strategic locations. After a second there was a small hiss and the human’s entire right arm separated from the shoulder. 

She placed the mechanical arm in the empty space, pulling the metal one free. With a soft grunt, the new arm was connected. From the other half of the armoire she pulled free another uniform shirt, this one noticeably missing the right arm. When the human had redressed, she turned back to Sylvanas, who took in the new arm with curiosity. 

The new arm was bulkier, looking much like an armoured gauntlet from an knight’s suit of armour. It was coloured a deep blue with gold designs. The fingers were slightly pointed, but not enough to impede fine motor skills. The bicep was made of thicker armoured plates, which could likely sustain severe punishment. 

Sylvanas’s eyes left the arm to meet eyes of blue starlight. An uncharacteristic look of unease passed over the human’s face.

“I... guess nobody told you.” No, not unease. Embarrassment and...something else. Something Sylvanas knew intimately well. Something she refused to acknowledge. “I apologize if you feel deceived. I was told to wear the other one at the ceremony. For appearances.” 

“It’s fine,” the elf replied coolly, stepping towards her bags with fluid steps. They weren’t intimate, so it wasn’t like the cold metal would be touching her. 

“Right.” Proudmoore cleared her throat, her voice returning to its usual strong level. “Did you need a full tour of the ship? I should be going to the bridge to get us underway.” 

“Go ahead,” Sylvanas didn’t look back at the human, just flicking her hand dismissively. “I’m sure I can find my way around.” She had no interest in going to the bridge, her priority was checking on her mech to ensure nobody had been foolish enough to touch it. 

“Okay.” Thankfully Proudmoore left it at that. Sylvanas heard the human’s footsteps before the door opened then closed with a gentle hiss. She dismissed all thoughts of the human, focusing her attention completely on finding her flight suit so she could get out of this damn uniform. 

* * *

Jaina stared out the view-screen. The bright lights of hyper faster than light dancing across her vision. She enjoyed the sight, it always brought her a certain sense of surety. It meant they were moving forward. They had a destination, a purpose. 

“Jaina, what are you still doing here?”

The admiral almost jumped at the voice startling her from her thoughts. She turned to see Modera standing next to her, giving her a faint look of concern. 

“Nothing,” the younger woman said quickly, perhaps too quickly of the responding frown on the older woman’s face was any indication. “I was just thinking.” 

“You’re usually hold up in your room by now.” 

Jaina tried to hold back her grimace, but once again she older woman still managed to catch it. Her expression became knowing, the smile she gave Jaina was almost tender. 

“Ah, so that’s it. You’re avoiding her.”

Jaina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not...exactly. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I mean, she hasn’t done anything yet. A bit cold I guess.”

“And you’ve just been a ray of sunshine this whole time?” Modera nudged her every so gently, a teasing smile on her lips. There were few enough crew on the bridge that they could let themselves relax like this. 

“I guess I’ve been a bit...morose.” 

Modera laughed, shaking her head. “Meaning you’ve probably been just as shitty as her.”

Letting out an indignant huff, Jaina crossed her arms. “I have not.” She’d at least tried to be somewhat cordial. Hadn’t she? 

“Have you even tried talking to her? Just getting to know her?” 

“She’s a murderer!” Jaina hissed, shooting her friend a glare. “I’m not going to be a bitch to her, because we need to work together. I see no reason for anything else.”

“It’s up to you,” Modera shrugged, looking out the view screen. “But Jaina, you of all people should know that what everyone  _ thinks _ they know, and what really happened can be two very different things.” 

Jaina’s frown was immediate. The stab of pain piercing her heart was like an old friend at this point. It set off what had essentially become a choreographed dance. Images would swarm through her mind unbidden. Memories those she’d once loved the most. The pain they’d caused her. The pain she’d caused them. Next a brutal, violent hurt would wrench at her heart, trying desperately to draw tears from her eyes. Finally, her strength would rally and she would tamp it all down, crush it back into the deepest recesses of her mind. 

The whole process took perhaps a minute. The only indication of anything amiss was the single, tight clench of her mechanical hand, the metal groaning for a heartbeat before the pressure eased. 

Jaina let out an inaudible breath. Modera wasn’t wrong. She knew that. But the idea that Sylvanas could possibly have some kind of justification for the things she’d done...it was almost unbelievable. 

Shaking her head again, Jaina pushed the thought from her mind. They had a grueling two weeks ahead of them. She didn’t have time to worry about whatever justifications her murdering...wife had. The simple fact was, it just didn’t matter right now. They had to forge this new joint force into a cohesive and deadly force in just two weeks. That could be her only concern right now. Her relationship with Sylvanas didn’t even rank in her top ten concerns right now. As long as they remained cordial and could find the ability to work together, that was all that really mattered. 

“Modera,” Jaina looked to the older woman, needing to change the subject. “Any chance you can have a sofa delivered to my quarters? Discreetly.”

The elderly XO gave her a questioning look, but thankfully didn’t pursue. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course. Now please, get some sleep Jaina. You’ll need it for the what’s ahead.” 

“Yeah,” Jaina just nodded. She knew it was true. And she couldn't avoid her own quarters forever. People would notice, and they would talk. “You have the deck. Good night, Modera.” 

“Good night, Jaina.” 

Jaina left the bridge, nodding to the skeleton crew still manning the room. The walk to her quarters was over too soon for her liking. She paused outside the door, taking in a breath. She hadn’t seen Sylvanas all day. Apparently the elf had been down in the mech bay all day, but Jaina hadn’t bothered checking up on her. There were no issues reported to her so she felt no need to investigate the elf’s doings. 

Would Sylvanas be here? If she was, what would she be doing? There was no sofa, only the bed. They would have to share tonight, until they could get a sofa brought in. The bed wasn’t huge, but easily big enough for the both of them to sleep without touching each other. 

She blinked, scolding herself for even hesitating like this. She wasn’t some teenage girl. Tides, she was a grown woman. A grown  _ married _ woman. She could handle sharing her bed for a few nights.

Striding into her room, she paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. If they lights didn’t automatically turn on at her entrance, it could only mean they had been set to sleep. Once her sight had adjusted, she moved silently closer to the bed, only to find it empty, yet a single pillow was missing. 

Unsure what to make of it, Jaina moved towards the armoire, only to freeze mid step. On the ground beside the bed, huddled under a blanket, was the form of Sylvanas. The elf’s pale gold hair the only thing peeking out from under the cover, standing in stark contrast to the dark blue pillow. 

“Sylvanas?” Jaina whispered, taking a step closer to the elf. 

Upon getting no reaction, the admiral just sighed and continued to her original destination. She removed her uniform, slipping into a loose tank top and sleep shorts. The presence of the likely asleep elf didn’t bother her, she was used to changing in front of others. 

Wincing at the slight pain from disconnection, Jaina removed her mechanical arm and returned it to the proper resting place. Sleeping with it in the previous night had been uncomfortable since she tended to sleep on her side, the hard metal covered by a thin layer of synthetic flesh had dug into her skin. 

Turning back around, she gazed once more at the slumbering elf. Was Sylvanas really so repulsed by her that she would rather sleep on the floor? Or was the elf just that stubborn? Whatever, it was her choice. 

Padding silently to the bed, Jaina climbed under the covers. If Sylvanas did refuse to share a bed, she certainly wasn’t going to complain. She would be sure to find a sofa however. Jaina may not have cared for the elf, but she should at least have something remotely comfortable to sleep on. Looking back over to the elf one last time, Jaina sighed, hopefully this was the only complication her marriage would provide. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for comments!! :)


	3. Vision For The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvanas and Jaina form their central command. 
> 
> Jaina considers putting forth more of an effort in her marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH. THIS CHAPTER IS SO SHORT AND BORING!! I AM SORRY!!!! But the the information here is necessary. Fun stuff next chapter, promise. 
> 
> TRES DID MORE AMAZING ART FOR THIS AU!! (She also did a lot of more amazing art in general! Go praise her!)
> 
> http://slackergami.tumblr.com/post/183188000990/the-scenes-are-from-a-mecha-au-sylvainas-fic-the

The hallway was bustling with activity, which didn’t come as a surprise. They had only arrived at the main fleet fifty-six minutes ago, there was a lot of work to be done and it seemed Proudmoore wasn’t wasting any time either. 

It had taken a small negotiation to work out meeting times around each other. Proudmoore had likewise scheduled to meet with the fleet’s ship captain’s. They’d decided Sylvanas would get first access to the room once they realized her meeting would run shorter. Proudmoore had far more logistics to work out with her officers. Whereas Sylvanas merely needed to press the importance of working together on the pilots, and following orders, in addition to notifying them of likely incoming command changes. 

Once the meetings were done, she intended to have the lance’s launch in waves to conduct initial training exercises. She’d divided the numbers into six battle groups, intending to work through them one at a time. It was imperative she analyze weaknesses in both combat and command ability. The preliminary exercises would take two days, if all went according to plan. Then she would have to review the information and make the necessary changes. Once that had been completed they could beginning full fledged wargames for further training. There were many sleepless nights in her future. 

Returning her attention to the present, Sylvanas slowed as she neared the briefing room, tucking the data pad in her hand under her arm. This would be her most important meeting. Striding in the room, she marched straight to the podium at the front, dropping her pad onto its sleek surface. 

She put her hands into the pockets of the leather jacket she wore over her flight suit. It would be more important to appear at ease around these pilots rather than a firm leader. She needed their trust and cooperation, not simple obedience. As tiresome as that was. 

The two Horde officer’s sat on the left. Geya’rah looked at ease, her orcish bulk filling up the chair she sat in, left ankle resting on her right knee. Her hair wasn’t up in its usual manner, but flopping down over the side of her head, a few errant strands covering her left eye. 

Liadrin sat with her usual rigidity, which only increased when Sylvanas had entered the room. Her golden eyes never wavered in their attention. 

To the right, with three empty seats separating the factions, sat the Alliance pilots. Maiev Shadowsong’s face was set, in what Sylvanas had been told, a perpetual scowl. The night elf’s face was riddled with scars, her left ear missing the tip, while the right had a chunk absent from the middle. Snow white hair was pulled up into a high tail, not a single strand daring to escape the rigid confines. 

Valeera Sanguinar behind the night elf and to the left, both her feet tossed upwards to rest on the back of the chair beside Maiev. The high elf was clad in her flight suit, while also wearing a bright red jacket over top, both elbows propped up behind her. Impossibly long golden hair was pulled into a high tail, long strands on either side left free to frame her face. The high elf had a faint smirk on her face as she continually glanced around the room, eyes finally resting on Sylvanas. 

“I’ll skip the introductions. You’re adults, do it on your own time. I asked the four of you here because you represent the most capable pilots among our new force.” Sylvanas cast a slow look at the four women, ensuring she made eye contact with all of them. Valeera’s smirk grew when their eyes met, the younger elf even winking. 

“That means,” Sylvanas ignored the action. “You’re not stupid. You know this new alliance, this unity, is what we need if we are going to survive. Nobody has seen more combat than the four of you. You know what we face. You’re here, because you recognize that, and because I need that.” 

She took a moment to let the words sink in. She was very aware of her reputation, asking for help was not something she would normally do, not unless it was utterly necessary. Liadrin and Geya’rah simply nodded, neither looking surprised. She’d talked to them beforehand, they understood the situation and agreed with her. Maiev’s expression did not change in the slightest, her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, but after several seconds, she gave a subtle nod. Even Valeera appeared more intrigued, her eyes no longer scanning the room, but remaining fixed on Sylvanas. 

“You’re each leaders in your own right. You command respect among your peers. I need that. Without this alliance, we will all be annihilated. I want the four of you to act not only as examples, but as liaisons. We will have daily meetings during these two weeks, we will address all issues that develop. I also want your input on all command decisions, you all have knowledge and experience that others don’t. I want us to pool our experience, our expertise and forge this alliance into the deadliest fighting force in history. To do that, I need your help.”

Valeera chuckled softly, glittering emerald eyes alight with mischief. “I thought you were supposed to be a bitch.” 

Sylvanas stared at the younger elf, knowing not a trace of emotion showed on her face. “I am. But I’m a bitch who needs your help.” She looked back to the others, doing her best to appear sincere. Deceit would not work with this group. “I’m not asking any of you to like me, I’m not going to pretend I’ll like any of you. But we need to work together, or this whole alliance is pointless.” 

“We’re with you, Sylvanas.” Liadrin’s voice was firm, full of the conviction Sylvanas had come to expect from her. 

“Yeah, we followed you this far,” Geya’rah shrugged, putting both hands behind her head. “And I’m used to working with squishy elves.” The orc grinned at everyone else in the room. 

Liadrin rolled her eyes, while Valeera cackled. Maiev still didn’t so much as twitch. 

“I’ll give working with you a shot,” Valeera drawled, sounding bored. “Anduin made me promise to play nice anyway.” 

Maiev still didn’t say a word, but offered another nod. 

“I’ll have the training schedule sent to all of you. After each session I would like to convene and discuss what changes we, collectively, think need to be made. I would like to continue that after the preliminary sessions, once we begin proper wargames. Do any of you object?” She allowed several seconds of silence to pass. “Good, if I have your cooperation, I’ll dismiss you until our next meeting.” 

As the group all began to rise, Valeera swinging agiley over the front seat to practically glide from the room, Sylvanas spoke again. 

“Shadowsong, a moment please.” 

Nobody cast a glance backwards as the night elf spun sharply, standing at perfect attention, hands clasped neatly behind her back, spine ramrod straight. Once the door closed and the two were left alone, Sylvanas moved to stand in front of the silent night elf. 

Maiev was a taller, standing a full head over Sylvanas, along with being much broader. Yet Sylvanas didn’t feel intimidated, she was certain the majority of people did. But she had stared down the unimaginable. Even though she could feel hostility wrapping around the woman like a cloak, it wasn’t a reckless, burning thing. It was cold, controlled, there was no danger of her lashing out. 

“Should you choose to accept, I would like to promote you as my executive officer, effective immediately.” 

Eyes of bright, silver moonlight narrowed. “Why?” Maiev’s voice was a grating rasp, like two stones grinding against each other. 

“You’ve got more experience than any other pilot, you’re well respected amongst the Alliance, and you’re the most skilled pilot we have. That’s what matters to me.” Sylvanas paused, taking a moment to decide continuing on. “And what matters to the politicians and the public eye, is that you’re a night elf, under my command. If I promote you it will be a good symbol of unity.”

“So this is politics.” Maiev's voice changed very little, the edge of a growl just beginning to make itself known. 

Sylvanas shrugged, “It’s both. I get an XO I would have chosen anyways, and it also sends a political message. You don’t have to accept. But I would like your decision now. If you won’t take the position I need to find someone else.” She already had a list of candidates, but Maiev was the best choice, it was a strategic and political victory. 

“I accept.” The night elf’s voice didn’t contain even the barest trace of enthusiasm or excitement. Nor did she sound upset, annoyed, or angry. Sylvanas decided to count it as a win. 

“Good,” she gave the night elf a nod. “I will announce it in the next meeting. I hope you don’t mind if we skip the ceremony, there’s much to do. You’re dismissed.”

Maiev offered a sharp salute before turning smartly on her heel and marching out of the room. When the door slid closed behind the night elf, Sylvanas leaned against the podium, letting herself sigh. Fuck that was annoying. She hated politics. Playing nice. It sapped her energy like nothing else. But she couldn’t expect the same terrified, blind obedience she got from Horde pilots. This alliance was too important for her to just cow them all into submission. Besides, she had the distinct impression that wouldn’t work with Maiev or Valeera. 

Stars, she couldn't wait to be back out in battle, amongst the chaos. Everything was easier there. Kill or be killed. She was good at that. She preferred that. For years she’d just been buried in the blood and chaos of war. It was her home, where she found herself longing to be as time went on. 

Now she had an alliance to keep together and a wife to keep at least somewhat happy. Gods, hadn’t she suffered enough in one life?

* * *

  
The lukewarm coffee hitting her tongue made Jaina cringe. If coffee wasn’t hot then what was the point? Grimacing, she downed the rest of the cup before it could lose any more heat. Setting the empty cup to the side of her desk, her eyes returned to the report in her hand. 

All ships were accounted for and reporting ready for action. Everything was going smoothly so far, but of course, that was because she hadn’t issued her orders yet. This day was going to be especially chaotic. She’d been up most of the night going over her plans obsessively. She couldn’t afford any mistakes. People would already be questioning her enough once she sent the orders. Everything needed to be perfect to make the transitions as smooth as possible. 

Jaina glanced up at the knock on her door, one of her aides standing at perfect attention. 

“Admiral, they’re ready for you ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She pushed back from the chair, tucking her datapad under her arm and she rose. 

The hallways were bursting with activity, which wasn’t surprising. So much to do, so little time. 

The meeting room wasn’t far from her office, and crew always stepped aside, offering a sharp salute while she passed. Well, the Alliance crew did. Horde pilots stepped aside for her as well, but they didn’t offer crisp salutes and respectful nods. Most just stared at her with an air of indifference, maybe some curiosity. She noted however, that the looks of disgust were almost non existent. The  _ one _ she did see, was from a blood elf pilot, who was swiftly elbowed by his companion, causing it to fall away into a grimace. 

It was surprising, to say the least. She’d expected unbridled anger and disgust directed towards her. She certainly remembered how there were almost riots in the street when it was announced she would be married to Sylvanas. Her ears rang for a full day after Genn’s tirade after he’d heard the news. Members of the Alliance had made no secret of their displeasure towards this marriage, even if those with actual brains in their skulls could see the logic. 

The lack of hatred and outright hostility from Horde personnel had Jaina wondering if they were really just that much more respectful, or if perhaps they were just that terrified of her. She hoped it wasn’t fear, that wouldn’t serve their goals well. 

Jaina marched into the meeting room with precise steps, her eyes falling on the gathering. Unsurprisingly, she only knew the Alliance captain’s personally. Muradin she had only worked with on a few occasions, but she was very familiar with his reputation and skill. They’d worked together a few times in the past, and she knew he was one of the few vocal supporters of this new alliance. His presence would be quite welcome. 

The second Alliance captain however...left Jaina quite conflicted. Their presence had the potential to cause quite the scandal.  On the one hand, their presence would bring a certain comfort to Jaina, as they were one of the few, true friends she had left. Yet, there was also the potential that Sylvanas would have a less than positive reaction when she found out her younger sibling was a captain in the fleet, soon to be one of four divisional commanders of the fleet as a whole. 

The two Horde captains, Jaina was only familiar with by reputation, although when she had actually faced in battle, which is why she had specifically requested them to be a part of this fleet. Princess Talanji and her fleet had proved themselves incredibly capable, and deadly adversaries, gaining their support, and the princesses personal presence was a great boon that Jaina did not plan to squander. 

The second, Jaina was less familiar with, but she had an astounding reputation. Her record in battle was impressive, but it was her technical mind that Jaina truly wanted to capitalize on. Captain Valtrois had pioneered several impressive technological advancements that had revolutionized not only nightborne society, but had led to great improvements to the Horde’s overall technological level. 

All four assembled individuals snapped to attention as Jaina entered. Vereesa and Muradin both giving crisp salutes, while princess Talanji gave a deep bow, captain Valtrois clasped her hands behind her back, merely giving Jaina a nod. 

“At ease, you may all be seated.” She moved to the head of the room, standing behind the podium, she placed her datapad onto the surface, the device automatically synching to be projected when she needed. 

“Thank you all for coming, I know today is a hectic day, so I won’t waste your time. I know you all understand the importance for this Alliance, you’ve all expressed such opinions in the past, which is partly why you are here. You’re also the most skilled and experienced captains in not only this fleet, but amongst your homes as well.”

Jaina reached down to tap on the datapad, bringing up a projection of the fleet’s make up. “This is the exact breakdown of this fleet as of now.” She tapped it again, and the diagram changed, showing the division shifting. Muradin, Vereesa, Talanji, and Jaina herself now all had equal ships under their direct command.

“Your core fleets will remain largely unchanged. However as some contributed more to this fleet, there will be a minor shakeup.” 

She had considered completely reorganizing the fleets, ensuring equal numbers of Horde and Alliance vessels in each section. She’d decided not only would that create too much chaos, it would also further fracture an already fragile and newly developing command system. They simply didn’t have time to undergo such a massive restructuring. True integration would have to come from mech pilots. 

“The four of you will report directly to me. Together we will handle and any all concerns of the fleet.” Jaina looked to the nightborne. “Captain Valtrois, I wish to appoint you head of engineering for the entire fleet. It’s an incredibly difficult task. You’ll be responsible for handling all the fleet’s engineering needs and coordinating closely with me so we can keep the fleet in fighting condition. You’ll have free reign to move and work as you see fit, I only ask that you keep me apprised of our condition.”

The nightborne flicked her hand in a dismissive motion, “It won’t be a problem. I’ll keep this fleet running.”

“Thank you,” Jaina nodded to the nightborne again before looking between all the captains, drawing herself up to her full height.

“There will be tension and resistance to this alliance, you all know this. Things won't go smoothly at first, we will have setback, we will struggle to find out footing. But what we have done here already is nothing short of historic. That alone is something to be proud of. But I have no intention of stopping there. This alliance represents not just our best hope for winning this war, it represents our future. A future of peace, of cooperation. Horde and Alliance don’t matter anymore. We have become something more, something greater than each. We aren’t just making history, we are making a future, and I need your help to do it.”

The reactions were immediate, enough to genuinely surprise Jaina. Vereesa was smiling so big and bright that it lit up not only her entire face, but the room itself. 

Muradin laughed uproariously, a broad grin on his face. “Lass if you keep giving speeches like that you’ll have this fleet ready to follow you into the void in no time!” 

“You are everything I was led to believe and more, Admiral Proudmoore,” Talanji gave another bow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Now, more than ever, am I certain joining this alliance was the right thing for my people.” 

Valtrois looked the least impressed, but still smirked. “You talk pretty, if you lead as well we may just pull this off.” 

Jaina couldn’t stop her own smile, didn’t want to stop it, or the hope that began building in her chest for the first time since this all started. Maybe they could pull this off. 

The rest of the day, and night, passed in a blur. Jaina had wanted to talk with Vereesa, but there just hadn’t been time. They both had far too much to do. Before Jaina knew it, it was far too late in the evening, and her eyes blurred as they struggled to read the report in front of her. After a full minute of blinking and rubbing, she still couldn’t maintain a focused vision for more than a few seconds, she knew it was time to end for the night. She brought her personal datapad with her, as always, moving through the almost empty halls of the ship back to her quarters. Well,  _ their _ quarters now, she supposed. 

She wasn’t surprised to find the room devoid of a specific elf. She was however pleased to see a new sofa placed near the center of the room, facing one of the book cases, creating the appearance of a sitting area. Well, at least Sylvanas wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor anymore. Not that she  _ had  _ to in the first place, stubborn elf. But at least Jaina could say she was putting some effort in to make her...wife, comfortable. 

Jaina dressed down for bed quickly, securing her arm back in its case. She was left in only a loose fitting tank-top and pair of shorts. She was just arranging herself comfortably in bed when the door slid open. 

Sylvanas was still wearing her flight-suit and the black bomber jacket, with the large emblem of the Forsaken on the back and a smaller patch on each shoulder. Sylvanas was reading from her data pad as she entered, stopping in her tracks as she glanced up and saw the new piece of furniture. The elf blinked twice before looking to Jaina, a blank look on her face, as usual.

Jaina cleared her throat, suddenly feeling awkward as she met the elf’s steely gaze. “It’s for you.” 

Sylvanas blinked two more times, her ears twitching once before she simply nodded and continued towards the dresser, grabbing her clothes and slipping inside the bathroom without a word. 

Jaina rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome,” she muttered, flopping down against the soft pillows, letting her eyes drift closed.

She cracked them open again when the bathroom door slid open once more. Sylvanas was wearing a tight, long sleeve shirt and loose, dark purple sweatpants, what Jaina was coming to realize was the woman’s usual sleeping attire. 

The elf neatly stacked and folded her flight suit before gathered the rolled up blanket and pillow from the floor and moving to the sofa. Not a single word was exchanged as Sylvanas, with precise, careful movements, made up her new bed and got under the covers, hiding her from Jaina’s view. 

Jaina sighed as she rolled over to turn out the lights from the control panel beside her bed. Maybe one day they would have an actual conversation. Even just exchange a word or two. They had talked about fleet needs on a few occasions. But the conversations were always short and clipped, very to the point. Not a single word outside work ever muttered. 

It was clear Sylvanas wasn’t putting in an effort, or even showing the slightest interest in making this marriage anything but political. While Jaina didn’t have anything against that, per say, would it really hurt them to be more amicable? Dare she even say, friendly?  Modera’s words came unbidden to her mind. Was Jaina really putting in an effort? She had gotten the elf a couch, but that seemed more just basic decency. Perhaps she could try to make some effort. 

“Good night,” She muttered, loud enough that she knew the elf would hear. No response ever came.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yell at me in the comments!!

**Author's Note:**

> I live for all your comments!!!


End file.
